Monologue
by Tara-manifesta
Summary: Harry Potter runs.


she said i dont know if ive ever been good enough

im a little bit rusty and i think my head is caving in

Ten-year-old Harry Potter ran. He twisted and turned, cutting through hedges, leaping over rusty chain-link fences and trampling over lawns. If the neighbors called the Dursleys saying that Harry had destroyed their landscaping - well, it wouldn't be pretty. But Harry didn't care at the moment; all he had to do was run.

and i don't know if ive ever been really loved

by hand thats touched me

and i feel like somethings going to give

and im a little bit angry, well

After a few moments, Harry's lungs burned like he had inhaled liquid fire, and his legs were strained and aching. He tossed his head back, craning his neck to see better what he was running from - Dudley Dursley and Piers Polkiss chasing him on their brand-new three-hundred dollar bikes. Even though Dudley hated physical exertion, he was faster on a bike than a tiring Harry Potter on foot, and Harry knew it was futile.

this aint over no not here

not while i still need you around

you dont owe me we might change

yeah we just might feel good

Harry stopped, and whirled around, watching the bikes come nearer, all creaky and chrome and shiny and fast and sleek. They reflected sunlight off of their shiny surfaces, bouncing into his glasses, which blinded him even more, even if that was possible. Piers leapt off his bike, being less chubby than Dudley, and ran up to Harry. Dudley followed, clomping down the sidewalk so heavily that Harry was dimly surprised that the sidewalk didn't fall in.

i wanna push you around well i will well i will

i wanna push you down well i will well i will

i wanna take you for granted i wanna take you for granted yeah i will i will

By the time the twosome was done with Harry, he had a swollen jaw, a heavily bleeding nose, and a black eye that was swelling bigger and blacker by the moment.

well i will

Piers and Dudley, having tired of their game, leapt on their bikes (Dudley's creaked, and the tires depressed about three inches, almost to the metal rim, but miraculously, the bike stayed up), and pedaled up the sidewalk, looking for somebody else to torment.

Harry did not cry. He was used to this. Used to it, used to it, used to it, he thought grimly, staring at the icy blue sky, and the butter-yellow sun that seemed cold and uncaring. Too used to it.

she said i dont know why you ever would lie to me

like im a little untrusting when i think that the truth is gonna hurt ya

Instead of the useless option of crying, Harry carefully climbed up off the ground, hanging into the tree, testing his weight on his feet. When he was satisfied that his feet wouldn't collapse under him, he stood up and looked around.

and i dont know why you couldnt just stay with me

you couldnt stand to be near me

when my face dont seem to wanna shine

cuz its a little bit dirty, well

He could go back to the Dursleys and his cupboard - but what good was that? He could stay out here in the blazing-hot weather that felt so cold - but what good was that? A robin knifed down by his ear, and chirruped a metallic trill. Harry looked up, startled, but then shook his head.

don't just stand there say nice things to me

ive been cheated ive been wronged, you

Instead of returning 'home', Harry padded up and down the street, and looked over at his school, empty and deserted in the summer months. He was quite sure he was the only kid that wanted to be in school over the summer - less time for Dudley to pound on him. He felt his black eye, and smiled sadly. But he didn't want to be at school either - strange things happened there to him, like changing teacher's wigs colors and being on the school roof. He got in trouble for that.

you don't know me i cant change

i wont do anything at all

Strange thoughts enter the mind of individuals who are walking alone. Harry's thoughts wandered to the subject of his dead parents - and the car crash that killed them. If they were alive, what would his life be like? How different?

i wanna push you around well i will well i will

i wanna push you down well i will well i will

i wanna take you for granted i wanna take you for granted yeah yeah well i will

Unlike being beaten up by Dudley - he was no stranger to physical pain - that thought stung him more than the hardest kick could. Why had his parents died? Why was God so cruel to him? What had he done to deserve it? He had no money, no friends, no family - well, he could hardly count the Dursleys as 'family' except in the literal sense - no decent clothes, no anything. It just wasn't fair.

oh but dont blow me over

just wait a minute well it kinda fell apart things get so crazy crazy

dont rush this baby baby

There had to be a light somewhere. Something, somewhere...

i wanna push you around well i will well i will

Something that held him above the rest.

i wanna push you down well i will well i will

Yes. There had to be. There was something that was behind all this suffering... well, maybe not suffering, Harry thought, misery was a better word for it.

i wanna take you for granted yeah yeah well i will

It was a mystery that Harry could ponder another time. The Dursleys prim, perfect, pathetic household was just around the corner and Harry had to steel himself to enter as quickly and smoothly as possible, so his aunt and uncle wouldn't see him, or Dudley. And he also had to send a quick prayer up that his 'aunt' Marge would not be dropping in for dinner or a late tea. That would not do.

i wanna push you around well i will well i will

i wanna push you down well i will well i will

i wanna take you for granted i wanna take you for granted yeah yeah well i will i will i will i will

Harry gently opened the front door, so as not to make a dramatic entrance, so Aunt Petunia couldn't load him with garden chores to do. He listened. The television was flickering between channels, the newspaper was rustling, something was frying on the stove. There was loud thumping upstairs - Dudley was attempting to sing and dance along to his Compact Disc player. Harry barely smothered a giggle and tiptoed up the stairs, careful to miss the one that creaked.

i wanna take you take you yeah well i will i will i will i will

i will i will i will yeah yeah push you around

ill drag you down i wanna push you around

He closed his door with a slight 'click' of the cupboard latch and threw the lock. Sighing with relief, he dropped to his knees and rooted under the spidery bed for something and pulled it out. It was a scrap of paper, no more than a tear, that Harry had found lurking in a corner about a year ago. It comforted him to see it. After pulling off a spider that had been clinging to the paper for dear life, he lovingly smoothed it out and looked at it.

Ever your devoted,

Lily Potter

A love letter? A friendly letter? Harry was never to know, as he clutched the paper tightly in one hand and fell into sleep.

...well i will...


End file.
